


On the kitchen floor

by Follevolo



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Gallavich, M/M, ianxmickey - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:04:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Follevolo/pseuds/Follevolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- I don’t wanna end up on the kitchen floor, Debs – he whispered, a nightmare in his eyes.</p>
<p>- You won’t. I promise, Ian. I won’t let you. – she said, and Mickey thought that in that few seconds she grew up of at least ten years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the kitchen floor

\- I can take care of him – Mickey protested, glaring Debbie with eyes full of anxiety and determination. 

Debbie looked at him, sympathetic, but skeptic.

\- You don’t understand, Mickey, it’s not about how much effort you put in it. He needs meds, and someone who looks after him constantly. Last time Monica was home…

\- Yeah, I fucking know, ok? Could you please not say it?

He sat down and buried his head in his hands, sighing loudly.

Ian walked slowly in the room, his pale face stressed and torn, yet so innocent and naïve. He sat down near Mickey, who jumped at his touch, not recognizing him immediately. He saw Ian looking at him, his eyes full of tears, and his expression softened. He welcomed him in his arms: Ian hugged him tight, resting his head on his chest while Mickey drowned his nose in his hair, his eyes deep in concern.

\- I’ll be good – Ian whispered, his voice so low and broken it tear Mickey’s heart apart – I’ll take my meds, I promise. Don’t… Don’t worry, I’ll… Just… Don’t…

He couldn’t manage to finish. He was already hyperventilating, sobbing hard in Mickey’s shirt.

Debbie got immediately closer, caressing lightly his brother’s hair and shoulders and back, in methodical steady movements, always the same, same iter, same speed. It calmed him down after just a few minutes. Mickey tightened his grip around him, but surrendered to Debbie with a look, silently admitting he couldn’t handle him all by himself. Nobody ever taught him how to.

She nodded, giving him a small smile. Mickey stared at her like an intern observes a surgeon during and heart transplant. He registered each and every little movement her hands were making on Ian’s skin, every word she was whispering in his ear.

\- Shh… It’s ok, Ian. We are here for you. You are so much loved. You can trust us, tell us anything, ok? You can help us a lot if you talk to us. We won’t judge. Just help us to help you, you can do this. I believe in you.

Ian emerged slowly from Mickey’s chest, his face a mess of red cheeks and salty water.

\- I’m so scared – he chocked between the sobs – I don’t wanna be like… Like mum… I don’t wanna let you down or hurt you… I don’t want Liam to grow up without recognizing me… I don’t want to… be the one everybody has to always worry about. Just a fucking waste of space and time. A fucking burden on everybody’s shoulders… I…

He grabbed Debbie’s hand and looked her right in the eyes. She swallowed all her tears and worries and sighed, trying to compose herself, to seem calm and sure. He was like a horse: he would be scared if he felt her fear.

\- I don’t wanna end up on the kitchen floor, Debs – he whispered, a nightmare in his eyes.

\- You won’t. I promise, Ian. I won’t let you. – she said, and Mickey thought that in that few seconds she grew up of at least ten years.

Ian nodded, but in a few minutes of silence another wave of panic took him, shacking him like an earthquake from the inside. This time Mickey took charge of it, and he thanked silently Debbie, who was so gracefully walking out of the room to leave them alone.

\- I’ll just be in the kitchen – she whispered – call if you need me.

Mickey nodded and waited just a few seconds for them to be alone before grabbing Ian’s face in his palms, softly caressing his wet cheeks with his thumbs. Their eyes were locked in each other’s gaze, and Ian’s breathe was desperately trying to hold on to Mickey’s.

\- I’m not worth it. You will let me go again… I… don’t have nothing, nothing… I am no worth fighting for. You will just put me aside aga…

\- Ian Gallagher – Mickey’s voice had never been so steady and sure in all his life. He didn’t know where that sudden strength came from. He just needed to make it better, he would have done anything in his power to make it better – Listen to me. If you only try to walk away from me, I’ll come after you to kick your butt. And I’d prefer not to, cos you know how much I fucking love it. So don’t. Don’t ever think about it, cos it won’t work, ok? I’ll never give up on you. I’ll not let you leave me again. Understood? I’ll deal with all your shit. I’m good at dealing with other’s shit, done it all my fucking life. At least now I can choose whose shit I have to take care of. And I choose yours. Cos your fucking wrong, Ian. You are worth it. You are so, so, fucking worth it.

The shadow of what once was Ian’s smile crept on his face, and he put his lips on Mickey’s softly and gently, like he was sharing a secret. He kissed him silently and incredibly slow, pecking him on the corner of his lips, on his checks, jaw, nose, forehead, drawing the profile of his cheekbones with his lips, and then going back to his mouth, while his hands were caressing his neck and hair.

Mickey closed his eyes, standing perfectly still, taking in and tasting in his bones every little touch of Ian’s skin on his, feeling it chill and shiver at each breath escaping from Ian’s mouth on his face.

So. Fucking. Worth it.


End file.
